


What The Water Gave Me

by leftshoelace



Category: The Librarians (TV 2014)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bisexual Jacob "Jake" Stone, Boys In Love, Cat Owner Ezekiel Jones, Cat Person Ezekiel Jones, Dog Person Jacob "Jake" Stone, Ezekiel Jones Backstory, Ezekiel Jones Being a Little Shit, Ezekiel Likes to Paint, Ezekiel is basically robin hood, Falling In Love, Flood AU, Gay Ezekiel Jones, Gay Panic, Historian Jacob "Jake" Stone, Idiots in Love, Illustrator Ezekiel Jones, Living Together, M/M, Modern Era, Mutual Pining, Neighbour AU, Part-Time Thief Ezekiel Jones, Pining Ezekiel Jones, Pining Jacob "Jake" Stone, Poet Jacob Stone, Reading Aloud, Reading Poetry Aloud, Vigilante Actions, accidental roommates, roommate au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 09:13:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19765108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leftshoelace/pseuds/leftshoelace
Summary: "You live in the apartment above me and your water pipe burst and is flooding into my apartment and you can hear me yelling so you come down to my apartment to see what’s going on and witness me standing in my kitchen/bathroom/whatever, holding an umbrella, screaming at the water pouring out of my ceiling because I have no idea what to do and we both just kinda stand there in shock as my stuff gets ruined and you let me crash in your apartment until my apartment gets fixed because you feel bad" AU





	What The Water Gave Me

**Author's Note:**

> The title is taken from the Florence + the Machine song

Jacob Stone always knew that a new day brought a new wave of surprises. Finding a dollar on the sidewalk, or getting coffee thrown down you on your way to work- all surprises that make each day new and eventful. And as much as he appreciated that every day was a chance for something new to arise, there were moments where he wished the surprises were less... surprising. Like a 'surprise' birthday party that he found out about, or an aquarium date that he saw the confirmation email for.

So when he woke up to find his entire apartment almost shin deep in water, he knew this was one of life's little surprises. But all he could think- as his socks and entire lower body got soaked- was

Why couldn't it be mini-golf?

With his pyjama bottoms now nicely stuck to his legs, Jacob waded his way into the living room, words failing him as his eyes fell upon the unexpected new water feature that had appeared in his living room. Meaning by that, of course, the burst pipe that had erupted in his ceiling panels, spewing water into his apartment and swamping the place. It was like the heavens had opened, dumping all three-thousand leagues of the Joules Verne sea into the centre of his apartment with all the grace of a... a...  
well, something ungraceful.

Baby Bambi on acid, shall we say.

Speechless, Jacob could feel an exclamation bubbling away in his chest, rising, rising, tickling the back of his throat until the words came to fruition. They forced their way from his lips, ringing out in the sodden expanse of his apartment before he could stop them, and, with a voice that he barely recognised as his own, he hollered:

"HOLY-"

-

Ezekiel's day started as it normally would. He watched the sun come up from behind the screen of his laptop, regretted not sleeping all night, saved whatever document he was working on and went to take a shower, ready to face the day. Only, as he pushed the button to turn on the hot water, a rather obscene gurgling sound sputtered out instead, and the usual high-pressure stream dribbled out in pathetic little drips and drabs.

Weird. He'd have to call maintenance on that one.

Turning off the shower, he headed to his kitchen to fix himself a cup of coffee, putting the kettle to the tap and turning the handle.

And again, Nada. The same gurgling sound as before, and no water to be found.

Groaning, Ezekiel gave up, getting changed out of his sweats and tee and into jeans and a button up. If he couldn't make his coffee, he'd buy it. He wasn't going to last five minutes without the usual jolt of his morning double espresso. Shoving his wallet in his back pocket and grabbing his phone from where it had been charging on his kitchen counter, Ezekiel was halfway out the door when he heard a loud cry from beneath him.

It must have been the floor below- anything further away and he wouldn't have heard the words so succinctly.

"HOLY MOTHER OF FUCKING FUCK!"

-

His carpets- currently deep underwater- were ruined, just as his sofa, his wallpaper and his bookshelf would be. Thankfully the only (currently) damaged shelf was the cookery books that various relatives gave him over the holidays, full of recipes he already knew and dishes he didn't want to try (meaning the bible-thick anthology of 152 different ways to cook squid... he wasn't entirely saddened at that one's unholy demise). The water was swiftly rising, threatening to soak his first and second editions of classic literature, and he felt his heart rise in his throat at the thought.

He waded his way to his bedroom (which was also swiftly dampening), struggling with the door of his closet, which had been wedged shut by the force of the water. After what seemed to be too fucking long for his tastes, he forced the door open, snagging a large plastic storage container from the high shelf in the cupboard, and waded back to his books, placing the most valued (and valuable) ones in there. He cleared half the shelf, the box of literature floating happily on top of the water, the most important editions safe and dry.

The same could not be said for his ancient texts. Scrolls were sodden, rolled sheets of pulp and ink, and his typewriter was bubbling away underwater, having been set on the floor for the repairs it was going to face that day.

_Sigh._

Guess it would just need an even more thorough cleanout after all of this. Perhaps he would ask his friend Cassandra if he could borrow her hairdryer some time. Maybe even Baird, from the Metropolitan Library Retrieval unit (Why NATO needed old literary texts Stone would never know, but she came in handy sometimes), but that seemed a little more far fetched. She probably just willed her hair dry, wringing the water out with the fear of God alone.

Lamenting the loss of his treasured typewriter, Stone waded to his apartment door, unlatching it and opening it wide. The water spilt out instantly, flooding the hallway and seeping into the floorboards. He'd feel bad for the folks below him eventually. but all they have to do is catch a few drops- his apartment nearly became the next SeaWorld attraction.

Except, fuck SeaWorld. Fuck SeaWorld and the treatment of their orcas. Assholes.

-

Curious about the sudden exclamation one floor below him, Ezekiel made his way downstairs. His converse snagged at the splintering wood beneath them, chipping at the old paintwork of the skirting boards as he went. He'd barely even touched the oak floors of the hallway when one of the doors flew open, spilling what could only be described as a tidal wave of water across the once-polished wood.

God, he was going to regret this.

Slowly, he made his way towards the open door. Golden lettering nailed to the chipped, red-painted door read 3C, the apartment directly beneath his own. As he drew closer, he could feel the water soaking into the soft canvas material of his shoes, squelching uncomfortably in his socks.  
Gross.

"It just had to be today, didn't it?"

an angry voice came from the open apartment, two parts frustrated, one part distraught. It held a strong, southern twang, and it sounded thick, like the owner of it was overwhelmed. With the amount of water spilling from the apartment, Ezekiel couldn't exactly blame them.

"The lord is fucking testing me today- where the hell is my phone?"  
A loud kerfuffle followed suit, and, with a pained groan that sounded more rage than upset, a small rectangular block threw itself at the corridor wall, smashing into a dozen pieces. Upon further inspection, Ezekiel discovered it was a phone- or, what was left of it.

Time to step in, he thought.

"Erm, sorry, mate," Ezekiel began, stepping under the doorway with an awkward wave, "I can't help but notice you're in a spot of bother,"

The man in the centre of the room barely spared him a second's glance. Which, although a little rude, was justified, given the great big fuck-off hole in his ceiling. By the looks of it, he was still in his pyjamas (black bottoms and flannel on top, as if he couldn't be any more of a stereotypical cowboy), meaning he'd woken up to this mess. Poor bloke.

"Damn ceiling's leaking," he grunted, struggling with a bucket to catch the water. It must have been going faster before (the stream a manageable speed now), the entire flat a sodden mess.

"Ah. Sounds delightful. Want me to call maintenance or something? I saw the fate of your phone in the hallway," Ezekiel offered, pulling his cell from his back pocket.

3C shot him a grateful look. "That'd be grand, thanks. I've gotta see what I can salvage from here and find a place to stash everything that isn't waterlogged,"

Ezekiel scrolled through his contacts until he found 'M', hitting the contact for Maintenance and putting the phone to his ear. As the dial tone rang in one ear, his voice rang in the other, asking the question that had been on his mind since seeing the state of the hallway. "So what actually happened?"

"No clue. Woke up to this wreck and a new water feature in the centre of my apartment. My best guess is that someone upstairs tried to use the hot water and burst the pipes, flooding the place"

Oh.  
Ezekiel's breath caught in his throat. Before he could say anything else, though, a voice on the line drew his attention.

"Apartment Maintenance, how can I help you?" came a gruff, male voice. He sounded tired- bored even- as if answering the phone proved to be an overly taxing task.

"Oh, uh, hi there, Ezekiel Jones, upper floor tenant. There's been a pipe burst on the fourth floor- it's leaked into apartment 3C and wrecked the place. Someone needs to come out and take a look at it,"

With that, he hung up, eyeing the sopping carpets that bubbled with excess water every time the man in the apartment trod on them. His apartment was one floor above, and he had tried his hot water this morning. He couldn't help but think that this was his doing, and a pang of guilt pulsed through his stomach.

"Ezekiel, huh?" came the Texan twang of 3C's voice. He was looking at Ezekiel with an expression he couldn't quite decipher. Like he was trying to tie the name to the face. "I'm Jacob Stone. I'd uh- I'd shake your hand, but as you can see-" he nodded to the water dripping from his hands.

Ezekiel made a face. "You're good, don't worry mate. I was uh- I was on my way to get coffee from the place down the road, but I can help you box up some stuff if you want,"

Jacob shook his head- he didn't look like a Jacob; Jake, maybe at a push, but not Jacob- waving him away with a friendly expression. "No, no, don't worry about it, I've got this. I wouldn't want to interrupt your day,"

Oh, so that definitely meant he needed help, but was too polite to say so. 3C was too nice for his own good. Sighing, Ezekiel picked up a dry box from the counter by the door, ignoring the wet squelch of his socks as he stepped inside the apartment.

"Where'd'ya need me?"

-


End file.
